The Big Deal
by Karu-DarkAngel
Summary: Zack Ryder poses a question that no one is willing to answer until Bret walks in and has to give "The Talk". Oneshot.


**A/N: **_There is only one way to counter a writer's block: absolute randomness. Rated for language and implied Slash. I own nothing and I don't earn anything either. __Enjoy._

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"Can someone please tell me what the big deal is about fucking another guy?"

Zack Ryder slammed the door to the locker room shut behind him when he walked into the room, tossed his gym bag onto one of the benches, crossed his arms in front of his chest and gave the assembled men a hard stare.

His question was met with eerie silence. It seemed like no one dared to speak, the words hanging in the room like a big black thundercloud. The only sound that was heard was Ryder impatiently tapping his boot on the tiled floor of the room, demanding an answer to his question from whoever was ready to give it.

Punk and Bryan who had been talking the moment Zack had stormed into the room gave each other lightly amused glances but choose to stay silent while John Cena looked like someone had hit him with a chair on the back of his head and both Miz and Morrison's cheeks turned a nice shade of red at the brash demand. Sheamus who was still in the shower heard only part of it, but wisely opted to stay where he was until the chaos had settled.

After none of the wrestlers said anything for several minutes Punk finally cleared his throat, trying to stifle the snicker that was already on his tongue, "Is there a particular reason you ask this question?"

"I'm just tired of always hearing the same gossip and no one never giving me a clear answer when I ask what all this fuss is about." the young wrestler explained, "It's always murmurs of what happened, hushed voices telling of hard sex with a lot of pleasure, people stopping in mid-sentence about backstage flings when they think the wrong guy is listening, silent rumors and tales of hot one-night-stands told in low voices when guys think that no one is listening."

The whole room looked at Zack Ryder, not quite believing what exactly he had just said for an instant before Daniel Bryan suddenly burst out laughing, his fingers clenched around the door of his locker to prevent him from falling to the floor in laugher.

"I say you're not as discreet as you think you are, guys." he finally chuckled, not even trying to cover the look he shot first in the direction of Miz and Morrison and then towards Punk who was still standing across from him.

Mike blushed a profound red at Bryan's words while Morrison tried to disguise his own embarrassment to no avail. Punk just shrugged and returned the curious glance Ryder was giving him without cringing.

"I don't know what to say. Sex is just sex. It doesn't matter who you fuck, there's not that much of a difference between ass and pussy." Phil crocked an eyebrow, "But I'm probably not the best person to answer this question because _I fuck_. If you wanna know something about _getting fucked_ you'll better ask princess one and two over there."

"Be careful what you say man, I'm no damn princess." Miz shot back before anyone of the others had time to say something, his icy blue eyes glaring at Punk who looked as if he couldn't care less.

Phil grinned, "Whatever you say baby, but we all know that your pretty little ass belongs to Jericho to do whatever he wants with it."

Whatever he wanted to say died on Mike's lips, his jaw literally dropping at Punk's bold declaration. No man in his right mind had ever dared to say _that_ out loud, but the Straight Edge Superstar obviously had no such problems. Phil knew that was telling the truth, and Miz knew too from the way he bit his lower lip in an attempt to keep silent.

"Truth's always ugly, Mizzy." Morrison snickered, delighted at the embarrassment of his former Tag Team partner. He and Mike didn't get along very well those days and he wouldn't skip a chance of mocking him.

Spinning around, said man glared daggers at Morrison, "Watch it Johnny-boy. You don't want the world to know whose ass belonged to whom most of the time between the two of us. Because I can go there too and I assure you it won't be pretty."

"Calm down boys." John Cena – who miraculously had managed to stay out of everything that was said so far – tried to settle the mood. The last thing he wanted was Morrison and Miz going at each other's throats _again_.

"Hey guys, what's-" Bret Hart stopped dead in his tracks in the open door when the strange mood of the locker room hit him the moment he opened the door. Frowning, he first looked at Cena who was standing between the two resident gossipers with his hands risen in a proposal of peace, then at Phil and Danielson who were standing a little offside with amused expressions on their faces and last at Zack Ryder who was still standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed defiantly in front of his chest.

"Something wrong?" sharp dark eyes examined the present men, the eldest immediately noticing that something was amiss with the small group of assembled wrestlers.

Ryder rolled his eyes in frustration, "Punk doesn't care if he fucks ass or pussy, Mike's ass apparently belongs to Chris Jericho, we just discussed the former sexual relationship of _Be Jealous_ and I still don't have an answer to my question."

"Uuh…" Bret didn't really know what to say in return, caught off guard by the young wrestler's brash words. A conversation about the sexual preference of his various coworkers – or whatever this was – sure as hell hadn't been on his mind when he made his way to the locker room.

"Just ask Bret, I'm sure he can handle this." with a hasty nod to Bret Cena packed away his grin gear, shouldered his gym bag and fled the room as fast as possible, the others staring after him until the door closed once more and the room was left in an awkward silence.

"So…" still not knowing what the hell was going on here Bret cleared his throat, "You were talking about what exactly? And why did John say to ask me about it?"

When the other four choose to remain silent Zack Ryder sighed and repeated the question he had posed when he first entered the locker room, "I just want to know what the big deal about fucking another guy is …and why is everybody avoiding this question like the plague?"

Bret just stared at the kid in disbelief for a moment. He had to admit, the guy had guts – a lot in fact …or he was just plain stupid.

"Okay… you know that this isn't a topic people are comfortable about talking, right?" the eldest finally wanted to know. He cast a quick look around the room after the words and noticed that Bryan, Punk, Miz and Morrison all had taken a seat on the bench in the middle of the room, waiting for him to explain what they didn't want to talk about – the kids were in for one hell of a lecture when he was done here.

"I get that, but why are they such pussies about it?" Zack shook his head in incomprehension, "A simple answer and they're rid of me."

The problem was just that the answer wasn't quite that simple – Bret sunk down onto the bench next to him with a sigh and didn't miss to give the others a nasty look in the process. When he had been young his concept of _being a vet_ had not included giving "The Talk" to the younger guys on the roster. Times really were changing.

"You know that… some women are tighter than others." he started to explain, not having a clue about how to do this.

"Sure." the kid just sat there and looked at Bret as if he could give him some kind of epiphany on the matter. His eager face didn't help matters in the least.

"Well… a butt is always tighter than a vagina. One can say that it feels more _intense_ for a man to have sex this way." Bret struggled with the words. After all he'd been brought up in the belief that sex was something sacred and that words like _fuck_ were something a real man stood above.

"Ass is tighter than pussy, okay I get that." Ryder repeated and Bret gave him an evil eye for using the kind of language he had desperately tried to maneuver around, "But what is so special about getting fucked by another guy? …it has to hurt a lot."

Bret heard Miz snicker somewhere behind him. Damn, that kid was so clueless it hurt and he had absolutely no idea how to explain something to him that couldn't really be described in words. Plus, that combination of innocence and eagerness young Zack Ryder displayed was just downright cruel.

"If the man doing it knows what he is doing he can hit your prostate… and that's very pleasuring, indeed." in his opinion one had to give Bret credit for handling this kind of talk as good as he did, but that didn't stop the boy from looking at him with that clueless expression on his pretty face that gave Hart the urge to just take the kid by the shoulders and shake him. _Hard_.

"But it still hurts, doesn't it?" Ryder blinked in confusion.

"Let's try this another way…" Bret gradually lost his patience and in the end decided to try something along the line of pure honesty, "Yeah, it hurts… but it also feels good at the same time … it hurts in a way that is good, too good and terrible painful at the same time. Being filled that way his too much and not nearly enough at once. It's a feeling you learn to crave as much as you learn to hate it. Because it sets your whole body on fire, it burns you inside out and the pain can be mind blowing and it makes you want to scream for it to stop, to be over… and just then that first thrust hits you prostate and you indeed scream, you scream for it to never be over, to never stop. You _beg_ for it. You would do everything for it to go on forever … you can't really explain this feeling but yes, when you find the right partner it is _a big deal_, as you put it. That's all I can say."

Bret cleared his throat after the words were out, knowing that he had just revealed more about himself than he had intended to. He looked around the room at the other wrestlers, returning their curious gazes – Punk had already opened his mouth to mouth off but closed it without uttering a word when he saw the look on Hart's face.

"Thanks man, I think I get it a lot better now. You're pretty cool for an old guy." Ryder beamed at Bret who was too stunned by the action to get angry at the line about his age. He just stared at the young man in disbelief as he gave him and the others a short nod, stood up and left the room humming his theme music.

"What's going on in here?" Bret looked up in time to see Mark Calaway walk in, a frown on his face when he looked after the retreating Ryder.

Standing up the eldest stood in front of Mark and poked the astonished Deadman in the chest with enough force to send him back a step, "_You_ are too late. The next time you'll better be faster, because I won't do shit like this _ever_ again. These are your damn kids, I'm not even a real employee in this company…" he trailed off, stepped around Mark and made his way out of the locker room.

The last thing the other wrestlers heard from The Hitman was a murmured, "I am too old for this stuff…" and then he was off.

Mark looked after him until he had turned around the corner before he looked at the men still sitting on the bench in the middle of the room, all four of them grinning.

"What the hell was that?"

His only answer consisted in a burst of laughter from his coworkers that started anew whenever they looked at each other.

Shaking his head he undressed and made his way into the showers where he ran across a pale Irishman who couldn't stop laughing while he walked back towards the locker room.

Mark growled and turned on a shower, "Crazy idiots."

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_Like I said, absolutely random. Tell me if it was too crazy._


End file.
